


Aught that Can Be Named

by phoenixflight



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Accidental Confession, Established Relationship, Multi, Pegging, Pining, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-02-29 05:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18772324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixflight/pseuds/phoenixflight
Summary: Maia really didn't mean to say someone else's name in bed with his wife.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thought to myself "Csethiro definitely owns a strap-on" and then this happened. Enjoy!  
> Chapter 2 contains Maia/Csevet.

The first time Csethiro introduced him to her phallic device, Maia had been exceptionally glad for the silken curtains around the bed, so his nohecharei couldn’t see what Csethiro referred to when she said softly, “I was wondering if thou’st’d like to try something new?” 

He’d gabbled something incoherent, staring at the leather straps and carved wooden… anatomy, face burning to the tips of his ears. His wife was blushing too, expression somewhere between hopeful and defiant. 

“Just think about it,” she’d said, pecking him on the cheek. He proceeded to think of nothing else for the next two days. The third time he asked Csevet to repeat himself while they reviewed correspondence over breakfast, Csevet had said, “Are you quite alright, Serenity?” and Maia had wished to melt into the floor with embarrassment. 

Their first experiment with the toy was awkward and strange-feeling and so startlingly arousing that Maia had finished before they properly got it in him. But they found that the lethargy after climax made penetration easier, and Csethiro was able to take him to pleasure a second time with the toy. Sitting on the hard chairs in the Chorazhas had been an uncomfortable undertaking the next day, but the more often they did it, the more accustomed he became to it, until it was a regular part of their bed play, especially during the times of the month when Csethiro did not want to be penetrated herself. 

On one particularly balmy night in late spring, with the bed curtains undulating in the breeze from an open window, Csethiro had Maia face down on the bed, whimpering in time with her thrusts. 

Although he was naturally reticent, and shy of making noise in bed, too aware of his nohecharei listening, this particular act made him vocal. Csethiro liked to hear him talk, and would murmur encouragements to him. “Is it good? Tell me. Dost thou like it?” 

“Good,” he choked, “Feels good. I… I love feeling thee inside me.” He’d had practice with phrases like that by now but they still made him feel impossibly dirty and aroused at once. It was a heady kind of freedom to let himself say whatever came to the tip of his tongue, when every other waking minute of the day, the emperor had to carefully guard his words. 

Csethiro was a vision, wearing the toy; the leather straps stark against her milky skin, the carved cock rampant between her soft thighs. He loved her, and wanted her every way she’d care to have him, but sometimes, face down in the tumbled pillows of their bed, with the toy moving inside him, making his nerves sing and his cock leak onto the silk sheets, it was easy to imagine that it was… someone else. Pale hair, luminous skin, long fingers gripping his hips tighter than they ever gripped a pen… “Yes, please,” he gasped, insensible. “More,  _ yes _ , there, right there.  _ Csevet _ .” He didn’t even realize what name he’d spoken until he felt Csethiro’s strokes falter uncharacteristically, and he marshaled the messy chaos of his brain to replay the last few moments. 

He froze, fingers curling on the bedspread in horror at himself and was about to start babbling apologies when Csethiro pressed a hand against the small of his back, holding him down, and thrust into him hard, precisely against that spot that never failed to undo him. 

He choked on his own breath. His face was so hot that the silk sheets felt cool against his cheek, but Csethiro hadn't stopped, hadn't shouted or accused him. She just pounded into him, hard and merciless, holding him down on the bed. His cock which had flagged with mortification stiffened again at the stimulus. Confusion and shame and arousal all tangled hot in his gut. Csethiro leaned down over him, changing the angle of penetration and he muffled his moans in the pillows. 

Mouth close to his ear, she murmured, “Serenity,” in a low, rough, masculine tone, and Maia’s whole body tensed. He climaxed with a noise almost like a scream, cock spurting onto the sheets, clenching down around - for a moment he let the thought fill his mind - around Csevet’s cock. 

He collapsed face down on top of the wet patch of his own seed, and when his head finally began to clear a wave of shame swamped him so suddenly he was almost nauseous. 

“I’m sorry,” he stammered, rolling onto his side to look at Csethiro. His wife was sitting back on her heels, hair in stunning disarray, flushed a pleasant pink from her cheeks down across her chest. The phallus, wet with oil, gleamed between her legs. Maia could hardly look at it. “Csethiro, I’m so sorry, I didn’t me… I don’t… I didn’t…” 

She raised a hand and he halted. “I’m not offended.” 

“Thou art… not?” Maia said cautiously. 

“No.” She ran a hand up his thigh to his hip, stroking the tender skin inside his hipbone with her thumb. “It would be foolish of me to think that an empress should possess all her emperor's attentions.” He eyes flashed playfully at him. “Especially when he spends the better part of eighteen hours a day with his secretary.”

Maia flushed again. “We have not… he and I have not…” 

“I know. I know thou hast not been unfaithful.” In the darkness he could not quite discern her expression, only the glow of her pale cheeks. 

He swallowed, uncertain. “I would not want to make thee unhappy."

Reaching up, she stroked his hair back from his face. "Makest me very happy, Maia. It would not trouble me if thou wert to allow others to make thee happy as well." 

“Even if…” His voice dried up and he had to start again. They were speaking low enough, Maia hoped, that Cala, standing by the window, wouldn’t be able to follow the conversation. “Even if it were a man?” 

“Even then.” For the first time she looked away, avoiding his gaze. “Why dost thou think I own such a toy?” 

Maia considered for a moment, and then gaped at her. “With other women?” Such a thing had not been in Setheris’ lexicon of insults against marnei, but of course it was simply part and parcel of realizing that women could do whatever men could do. That led to some extremely distracting thoughts of Csethiro entwined with a woman who bore a passing resemblance to Min Vechin, engaging in any number of the pleasures Csethiro had taught Maia to give her. His spent cock twitched a little against his thigh, and he felt his face warm. 

He forced himself to focus. His wife had offered him a great deal of trust in disclosing such a thing. “Is that… your preference?” he asked softly. 

She shrugged, unbuckling the straps of the toy and wriggling out of it. “Before I met thee I did not think there was a single man who was not intolerably arrogant, narrow-minded and selfish. But I do not prefer thee less than… anyone else.” Stretching out beside him, she tucked herself against his side, comforting and familiar. “Hast thou a preference?” 

“I don’t know. I have never had… a chance to explore. But…” Was he ever going to stop blushing? “Knowst I want thee.” 

“I know.” Her breath was against the hollow of his throat, her tone amused.  “Thou art not such a skilled actor.” 

They both dissolved into laughter at that, and feeling warm and giddy and sated, Maia curled his arm around her and let himself relax into sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I lied about this being two chapters, it is actually three. Here, have 1.5k of awkward confessions. Sex next chapter!

In the week that followed, Maia did his best to stay composed, and to not trip over his words in front of Csevet like a green boy, or to get lost staring at him. It wasn’t that he’d never noticed Csevet’s grace, his physical poise, his lean body beneath carefully tailored jackets, his gleaming, neatly kept hair, or the fine features of his face, but more that Maia had never named his noticing. Now Maia found that his eyes caught on Csevet the same way he watched Csethiro laughing, or dancing, or with her hair unbound in bed. It made guilt and desire roil together in his belly. 

They were in the Tortoise room, finishing a long day. Kiru and Telimezh stood by the door, and two of Csevet’s under-secretaries were sorting papers at the side desk. 

Csevet passed him another stack of letters, and Maia suppressed a sigh. “Almost done, Serenity,” Csevet said, with a gentleness that made Maia feel warm. It had always made him feel warm, he had just not realized how… acute that warmth was. “Just the summary from Lord Berenar which doesn’t need a response, and then the reply to the Ambassador.” 

Isheian came forward quietly carrying a cup of tea and Maia took it gratefully as he scanned the treasury report. “Did aught look amiss?” he asked Csevet, thinking again that he would be completely lost without the loyalty of his secretary. 

“No, Serenity.” 

Maia nodded, and pulled a blank sheet toward him to begin a response to Ambassador Gormened. When he looked around for a pen, Csevet held one out, between his long, pale fingers. 

Bending his head, Maia reflected that at least he had become accustomed enough to the courtly style that he could write such missives without much attention. He finished the note, set down the pen and picked up the teacup, as he read it over for misspellings. 

“We spoke with the Zhasan today,” Csevet said, and Maia spilled his tea all over the letter. Wet ink ran on the page. 

Telimezh jumped forward as if it were his job to save Maia from scalding water as well as assassins, and there were a couple of minutes bustling with Isheian bringing rags, and blotting the wet pages, and Maia waving away the offers of getting his edocharei to change his tea-stained robe.  When the room had settled again, Kiru and Telimezh back in their place by the door, he forced himself to look at Csevet. 

Csevet’s ears were slightly down, and his eyes narrowed. Maia couldn’t quite meet his gaze. “Of,” his voice cracked and he started again. “Of what did you speak?” 

“Of the plans for the midsummer festival,” Csevet said slowly. “Is there aught else we should speak of with the Zhasan?” 

“Oh. No,” Maia said hastily, and knew that although his skin did not show a blush Csevet would not miss his discomfiture. “Tell us of your plans for the festival.” 

Csevet did, but Maia hardly heard him over the rushing of blood in his own ears. When Csevet stopped speaking, Maia could not for the life of him conjure any recollection of the last sentence he had said. He stared helplessly at his secretary as everyone else in the room stared at him. 

“Serenity,” Csevet said, and his voice was terribly gentle, “if there is something the matter please tell us, that we can endeavor to correct it.”

“No,” Maia said again, face feeling hot. “Or rather,” he stumbled over his words, feeling as green as he had during his first week at court, “nothing the matter to concern you.”

“Are you ill?” Csevet was still looking at him with a worried intensity. 

Maia had to swallow a hysterical laugh. Setheris would have said that such desires were like an illness. Of Csevet himself, Maia knew nothing of his thoughts towards marnei inclinations except his sympathy for Celehar and his loathing for Tethimar. The thought of coercing Csevet into anything that he did not want, based on their differences in rank, made Maia’s stomach turn. 

Csevet deserved no less than his honesty but how could he say  _ I have been distracted because I am imagining thee bending me over the desk and fucking me?  _ His ears went down just thinking it. 

Silently, he cursed himself for a cowardly, tongue-tied hobgoblin. He wished Csethiro were here, for comfort if for nothing else. He wished his first nohecharei were on duty, not the second. He wished to be free of the constant scrutiny of imperial rank, for the laughable freedom to speak to Csevet in real privacy.

Csevet was still watching him with concern. "Silvo, Edvar," he said to the other secretaries, "that's enough for tonight. You may go." 

"You too, Isheian," Maia said, getting to his feet. The serving girl bobbed a curtsy and followed the under secretaries out, leaving just the four of them, the emperor, his nohecharei, and his secretary. Maia walked down the length of the room. The Tortoise room was long and there was a window casement at the far end. When he reached it, he turned and tipped his head at Csevet, beckoning with his chin. Telimezh shifted, looking like he wanted to follow, in order to stay within grabbing distance of Maia, but Kiru murmured something and he stood still again. The only sound was the soft click of Csevet’s boot heels on the marble. 

“Serenity,” he said. “What is it?” 

Maia swallowed. His throat was so dry it hurt. “Csevet. We… I have a confession to make. If you wish to leave afterward, I will understand.”

Csevet’s ears twitched in alarm, rings jingling. “Leave… for the evening?” 

“Leave my service,” Maia croaked. 

“Serenity, are you… are we being dismissed?” His eyes were wide, cheeks very pale. 

“No! No,” he repeated, more softly. Csevet had jolted back at his yelp, and Telimezh had made an aborted movement toward them. “That is… the last thing I wish. But neither would I wish for you to continue in your duty if you do not want to. After what I have to say.” 

“Perhaps you’d best just tell us, Serenity,” Csevet said, in something resembling his normal, composed tone. He folded his hands in front of himself, posture impeccable. 

Drawing a deep breath, Maia mirrored his poise, wishing it would lend him some of his equanimity. 

“I have been having… unseemly thoughts about thee.” He dropped into the informal second as well as the first, in a futile attempt to make the barriers of rank between them less acute. “My distraction has been inappropriate, and I offer my sincerest apologies. I do not wish to cause thee discomfort, or to force thee to continue working close to me if thou dost not wish.” 

Csevet’s ears, which had been flattened against his head, lifted a little. His expression was somewhere between wary and disbelieving. “Serenity… forgive us. We want to be sure we understand you. Unseemly thoughts, meaning… carnal?” 

Maia nodded miserably. “I’m sorry, Csevet.” 

Color had returned to Csevet’s face - a pink flush suffusing his porcelain skin. “What of your wife?” 

“She knows,” Maia said. His hands were trembling, and he folded them carefully in front of himself, an old habit that Setheris had all but trained him out of. “She has given me leave to…” His face flamed and he couldn’t continue the sentence. “To speak with you of it,” he finished, lamely. 

Eyebrows slightly raised, Csevet said, “You thought she might have spoken with us already?” 

Reminded of his awkward fumbling earlier, Maia suppressed a wince. “I… did not know. She is strong-minded.” 

“That she is,” Csevet murmured. His voice and expression were distant, as when he contemplated some thorny tax problem or a particularly well-reasoned political dissident. 

“What… what is thy will?” Maia ventured. “Only I do not wish to see thee discomfited. I will help thee find other employ if that is…” 

Csevet lifted a hand, a gesture that he used on his under secretaries, and then looked somewhat chagrined. “That will not be necessary, Serenity.” 

The rush of relief made Maia nearly lightheaded. “What, then?” 

Csevet pressed his lips together, looking like was weighing a heavy decision. “What did you think the Zhasan might say to us, exactly?”

Maia felt himself growing warm and flustered again. It could not be healthy for one’s heart to pound so fast so many times in such a short interval. “I… she. I feared she might tell thee my mind or even… give thee permission to… to court me.” 

Csevet’s eyebrows flew up. “Indeed?”

Helplessly, Maia shrugged, knowing it was a weak and undignified gesture. 

An unfamiliar look crossed Csevet’s face - something sharp, cautious and inquisitive. “And what would your answer have been, had she spoken thus, and had I done so?” His voice was even, only the set of his ears betraying his nerves. 

“My answer?” Maia felt his eyes widen. “Art thou… I mean, dost thou…” 

Csevet dropped his gaze to the floor. His face was truly red now, his fair skin glowing with it. “I do not find the idea objectionable.” 

“Dost not?” Maia echoed faintly. His heartbeat was throbbing in his ears.

“No, Serenity,” Csevet said softly. 

“I… I do not wish to be thy emperor, in this,” Maia said, tongue feeling thick and clumsy in his mouth. “Please, Csevet… wilt thou use my name?” 

Csevet looked up at him, blue eyes wondering and intent. “Maia…” he murmured, and Maia felt his heartbeat stutter. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, Maia really likes to monologue internally during sex. There are so many feelings in this sex scene. So many. Wow. These boys are so soft.

Late that night, Maia was awake in his rooms, with his dressing gown wrapped over his nightshirt, pacing from the bed to the window and back. After the fraught conversation in the Tortoise Room, Csevet had said, “We have a few more things to see to this evening, Serenity, and then… we would join you? If you wish it.” Maia saw from the set of his ears how much courage it took to say that, and he nodded vigorously in agreement, grateful to be saved from making the proposition himself. 

Now, he waited, unsure how much ‘a few more things’ entailed from Csevet, the master of tactful understatement, or if he was truly coming at all. Cala watched Maia pace with a faintly worried expression. Maia wondered what Kiru and Telimezh had told his first nohecharei. 

There was a knock on the door and Beshelar said, "Mer Aisava, Serenity." 

Maia's heart leapt into his throat, sick and eager. "Enter," he called, and his voice shook. 

Csevet stepped into the gentle light of the low-burning gas lamps looking as uncertain as Maia had ever seen him, which wasn’t very. It was only the set of his ears and the tension in his shoulders that gave him away. Maia’s heart fluttered under his ribs. 

Beshelar withdrew, closing the door softly behind himself, and Cala was standing in the furthest corner of the room, eyes turned away respectfully. Maia still felt the prickle of his presence, more intensely than he had since his wedding night, when the idea of making love to Csethiro with his nohecharus in the room had made him practically impotent with embarrassment. 

“Hello,” he said, and then wished to melt into the floor at how awkward he sounded. 

Csevet bowed, low and formal. Maia held up his hand to stop him, dismayed, but when Csevet straightened he was smiling, and he said, softly, “Good evening, Maia.”

Taking a trembling breath, Maia stretched out the hand that was already raised, turning it from a reproach to an invitation. Slowly and deliberately, Csevet placed his pale, slender hand in his. There were ink stains on his fingertips. Maia wanted to kiss them. 

He could, he realized. It would feel silly, but no more so than standing frozen like a moonstruck fool. Lifting Csevet’s hand to his mouth, he pressed his lips against his knuckles, in the racy greeting that some of the younger set at court were popularizing. He heard Csevet breathe in, but didn’t dare look up at him. Instead, he turned his hand over, palm up, and lightly kissed the tips of his elegant, pen-calloused fingers. He startled when Csevet pressed lightly against his mouth, and traced the shape of his parted lips. 

His fingers came away gleaming slightly with Maia’s spit, and Maia looked up with hot trepidation squirming in his belly to meet Csevet’s gaze. Csevet’s eyes were dark and intent on Maia’s, his cheeks brightly flushed. Holding Maia’s gaze, Csevet lifted his damp fingers and sucked them into his own mouth. 

A shocked thrum of arousal shot through Maia, his cock coming fully hard beneath his nightshirt. He realized he was gaping and closed his mouth sharply. Csevet grinned at him, letting his fingers slip out of his mouth, and it was a playful, sly expression, which Maia had never seen before - or rather, had only seen pale glimpses of when Csevet broke etiquette far enough to crack a joke, or to comment on a particularly salacious bit of court gossip. It was heady, and gone in a flash, face modulated back into a more proprietary calm. Csevet was still smiling but it was a gentle, waiting smile. 

Csevet was being cautious, Maia realized with an unpleasant jolt. He was still afraid of overstepping his bounds with his emperor. Glancing from Cala, who was looking deliberately away, to the silk-hung bed, Maia made up his mind, fighting the flurry of nerves in his belly. 

“Wilt thou…” he swallowed. “The curtains on the bed offer some privacy.” 

Csevet’s cheeks pinked a little, but he nodded. They crossed to the bed, side by side but not touching, and Maia felt as if he were walking in a dream - half floating and half simply unreal. Csevet hesitated again at the edge of the bed, so Maia sat first. Kneeling, Csevet began unlacing his boots. It was a strangely intimate thing to watch and Maia turned away, tugging at the ties which held the bed curtains open during the day until they slid loose. By the time he had finished dragging the curtains nearly closed around the bed, Csevet was in his stocking feet, looking uncertain. Scooting back on his knees, Maia patted the bed beside him with more confidence than he felt. 

The mattress dipped and Csevet crawled onto the bed, tugging the gap in the curtains shut behind himself. The light of the lamps filtered through the silk, making a warm, glowing space like the inside of a translucent pearl. They knelt, facing one another, Maia in his dressing robe and Csevet in his neat jacket that he wore every day, not quite close enough for their knees to touch. 

Maia swallowed, throat feeling dry and tight. “Dost want this? Truly?” 

Csevet looked at him seriously. “Dost thou?” 

“Yes! Csevet, yes. I have thought of little else for,”  _ days _ , he bit off. It was honest but it seemed such an insignificant amount of time for such a serious desire - and the truth was this had been simmering for far longer, if only Maia had known how to name it. 

“Saleziho,” Csevet muttered, under his breath like a prayer or a curse. “Seren- Maia, you have no idea. I thought thee beautiful when I first laid eyes on thee, and then I came to know thee and…” he shook his head sharply, and spoke in a whisper so tender it sent a physical pang through Maia’s chest. “Trust that I want this.” 

Unable to find more words, taking a deep breath to steady himself, Maia leaned forward, hands braced on his knees, his chin forward in a silent offer. He couldn’t take his eyes off Csevet’s lips, delicate and pink, expressive. Csevet’s tongue flickered nervously behind them, barely visible and Maia felt the slow churn of desire in his body intensify. It was Csevet who closed the distance between them, who slid a warm hand around the back of Maia’s neck, cradling his skull, guiding his head to the correct angle and fitting their mouths together. A tentative, testing brush at first, and then more certain. 

They kissed until Maia felt brave enough to loop his arms around Csevet’s neck and pull him against his chest; until his lips were tender with it, tingling. Csevet kissed so differently from Csethiro - his only other point of comparison - where Csethiro was demanding, with her tongue immediately in his mouth, Csevet was teasing, deliberate and slow, until Maia was pressing toward him and making tiny, needy noises in his throat, wanting more. Csevet’s fingers tangled in his braids. 

Maia was tugging helplessly at the buttons of Csevet’s jacket, hands clumsy with eagerness and nerves. His own robe had been pushed off, leaving him in his nightshirt, and he could feel the stiff fabric of the jacket through the thin cotton. He wanted skin instead. 

Gently batting him away, Csevet undid his buttons himself, and shrugged the offending garment off. The shirt beneath was linen, almost the same color as Csevet’s skin, and warm with his body beneath it. Glancing down, Maia felt almost dizzy with desire at the visible bulge in his trousers, and before he could lose his nerve, he dropped a hand down to palm Csevet through the canvas of his tight breeches. 

Csevet groaned, heartfelt, and dropped his head forward onto Maia’s shoulder. Gathering his courage, Maia tentatively explored the shape of it with his fingertips, and listened in delight as Csevet’s breathing turned ragged.  

Csevet’s bare chest glowed like marble in the gentle light through the curtains. His fingers curled in the hem of Maia’s nightshirt, tugging it up, and Maia lifted his arms obediently as he did for his edocharei. Before Maia had a chance to be swamped by self-consciousness, Csevet was kicking off his own trousers and stockings awkwardly and casting them aside. 

Then they were naked together; it shook Maia only slightly less than the first time he had been thus with Csethiro. He had become accustomed to the vulnerability and excitement of nudity, with her, but this was wholly new. He kept casting glances down at Csevet’s cock, jutting pink and hard between his pale thighs, and looking away quickly, face aflame with heat. Forcing his hands to rest on his knees, he quashed the ridiculous urge to cover his own equally obvious erection. 

Csevet reached out and tentatively touched his chest, just above his heart, and then dragged the hand down, feather-light over his nipple and his ribs, making him shudder. Maia’s let his eyes close, overwhelmed, and he felt the mattress dip and heard the rustle of sheets as Csevet shifted closer. There was a warmth of breath against his lips, and he leaned forward blindly to kiss Csevet again. 

With both of them naked, Maia felt even more at a loss for what to do with his hands. Shyly, hesitantly, he let them stray from the safety of Csevet’s soft hair to his shoulders, and then his smooth back, tracing the knobs of his spine. Csevet sighed into the kiss, pulling him closer until they were chest to chest, Csevet kneeling astride his lap, their cocks bumping between their stomachs and sending sparks through Maia with every movement. Maia did his best not to rut against him like an animal as they kissed, afraid of finishing too soon. 

Their mouths parted, and Csevet murmured, voice rough, “Wilt thou take me?” 

Maia’s eyes fluttered shut on a wave of lust. With Csevet’s knees on either side of his thighs and his ass brushing against Maia’s erection, he  _ did _ want that. But he also knew that it would be just another kind of cowardice, an excuse to not admit his true desire. He had begun in honesty and in honestly he would continue, although the words felt scraped from his throat as he spoke them. “I hoped… if thou’dst like, wouldst take me?” 

Csevet’s breath caught and he went perfectly still. Exactly his reaction when something truly shocking was said at a public audience or at a meeting of the Corazhas. Maia swallowed a nervous laugh. 

“I had not thought… I had not imagined… Not that I  _ did _ imagine.” Csevet’s cheeks showed a blush vividly. “It would have been inappropriate to imagine such things. But I thought that... Thou art emperor.” 

“I can scarce forget that. Yet that is my wish, if thou wishest it also. Would thou enjoy it? Or thou’dst rather the other?” Embarrassment made his face feel scalded, as if he’d sat too close to a fire for too long. But he desperately needed to know Csevet’s mind in this matter.  

“I enjoy both,” Csevet said, pink to the tips of his ears. “But it is rare for a nobleman to admit the same.” 

Maia was used to committing social blunders, and used to Csevet correcting him, but Csevet didn’t say it as if it were a reprimand. His tone was soft - almost wondering. He was looking at Maia with an intensity that made pleasant warmth curl in Maia’s stomach. 

“Please,” he said simply, and Csevet leaned in and kissed him again.

It was exceedingly pleasant and diverting to roll naked on the bed, mouths locked together. Their cocks rubbed together between their stomachs, silky and becoming slick, and Maia could spend like this, and would if they went on much longer. But, greedily, he wanted more. When they broke apart, Maia reached for the bottle of oil that they kept beside the bed. The small shelf also held Csethiro’s toy, wrapped in silk in an ornate box, locked away from prying eyes. 

Csevet blinked a little when Maia handed him the oil, as if he still could not quite believe what he was being asked, but he shifted so that he was sitting between Maia’s spread knees. He felt exposed and wanton like this, want and anxiety all tangled up into something unbearably hot. His cock was leaking against his stomach. 

The top of the bottle popped open. “I have to stretch thee open with my fingers first. It will feel strange.” 

“I - I know. I’m not… new to it.” 

“Saidst thou never…” 

Maia blushed furiously. “Not with a man.” 

Csevet’s eyebrows shot up, and Maia felt chagrined. It was Csethiro’s private life too, that he’d revealed. But she had given him permission to be here, and inevitably there would be some disclosure that involved her, since Csevet certainly knew she was the only person with whom Maia had ever been intimate. But Csevet, diplomat that he was, said nothing, merely poured oil on one hand, and stroked the other down his inner thigh, urging him to lift his legs higher. 

Maia threw his head back on the pillow, too overwhelmed to watch, so he was taken by surprise when he felt Csevet’s warm breath on his erection moments before the wet heat of his mouth surrounded the head of his cock. He jolted in shock, eyes flying open, and was nearly overwhelmed by the sight of Csevet with his lips wrapped around his shaft, cheeks pink and silver hair disheveled. He twitched and groaned again as Csevet’s oiled fingers probed behind his balls and skated over the sensitive skin.

When it sank inside, Maia drew a shuddering breath and relaxed for it easily. He could have told Csevet that he could take two to begin with, but Csevet quickly figured it out himself and added another, still sucking Maia’s cock. Whining, Maia turned his head sideways to muffle his noises the pillow as Csevet worked him open. And then Csevet’s fingers curled forward just right and Maia was glad of the pillow as he cried out involuntarily. Csevet hummed in satisfaction around his cock and did it again. 

It was too much, Csevet’s mouth on him, the image of him doing that, along with his fingers inside, stroking that sensitive spot. “I’m… I’m…” Maia gasped, moments before the hot, shuddering convulsions of climax gripped him, words lost. 

When he returned to his senses, Csevet was looking up at him, licking his lips. “Dost thou still wish to go ahead?” 

“Yes,” Maia groaned. “Please. By all that’s holy,  _ yes _ .” Csevet’s fingers were still lodged deep in him, and when they moved it sent a sharp aftershock through him. 

Maia’s heart pounded, feeling as if it were lodged in his throat as Csevet withdrew his fingers and slicked his cock, scooting forward with his knees beneath Maia’s thighs to line himself up properly. The blunt head pressed against his hole and it felt so different than the toy - warm and yielding, not the unforgiving hardness of wood, but living flesh. 

As Csevet pressed in, the intensity of the aftershocks of his climax began to build seamlessly into new arousal, cock twitching, half-hard. Csevet was slightly smaller than the toy and better by every measure, not least of which was the man himself, leaning over Maia, hands braced on the mattress by his shoulders, hair falling between them. 

Now, in the honestly of hindsight, Maia could see how much he had wanted Csevet without ever knowing himself. It was something he had barely let himself fantasize about, and yet a desire so strong that it had manifested without his conscious mind’s awareness when he had accidentally spoken another’s name in bed with his wife. 

Now he could groan Csevet’s name shamelessly, clenching down around his cock and rocking back into his slow thrusts, and the only other person to hear was Cala, who would take his secrets to the grave. Csevet was looking down at him with a wondering, almost shocked expression on his face, eyes wide and lips parted. Reaching up, Maia twined his fingers in his silken hair and dragged him down for a kiss. 

When they finally parted to pant for breath, Maia was fully hard again, and taking Csevet easily all the way to the root, although Csevet was still being gentle.

“More, please,” Maia whispered, drawing on his practice with Csethiro for speaking his desires in bed, although he felt shyer than he had in months. 

Csevet made a noise, somewhere between a gasp and a growl, and thrust into him harder, making Maia whimper. They found a rhythm, Maia arching and clutching at him with every stroke, knees locked around Csevet’s hips. Sliding a hand into the warm, damp space between their bodies, Maia began stroking his own sensitive cock, as firmly as he could stand. The sensation made his body tense, tightening on Csevet’s cock inside him. 

Eyes fluttering nearly closed, Csevet hissed out half-spoken words, curses that dissolved into heavy breath before they ever truly formed on Csevet’s oh-so-proper tongue. He was flushed red with exertion from the tips of his ears down his chest, his hair a tangled, shining curtain falling over his shoulders, shadowing his face. They were both gasping with every stroke, chests heaving, sweat breaking on their skin. 

“Please, yes, Maia,” Csevet panted, his sweet voice ragged and strained. "I can’t… much longer…” 

_ He’s going to finish inside me,  _ Maia thought, in a shock of perfect clarity, and that thought was so heated and so sudden that it sent Maia crashing into his own pleasure again before he’d even realized he was so close. He cried out, head tossed back, cock spurting between their bellies as his climax washed through him, making him clench down around Csevet’s cock. Csevet swore sharply, and pressed his lips against Maia’s collarbone, muffling his moans as he spent as well. 

They collapsed together, breathing hard. 

Eventually, their sweat began to dry, chill on their skin. Maia was warm with Csevet on top of him, but he felt Csevet shiver, and they rolled apart reluctantly. The insides of Maia’s thighs were slippery and wet, and it made his cheeks heat again although he ought to have been long past embarrassment. Despite Maia’s weak protests, Csevet left the bed to fetch the pitcher from the washstand and a clean rag, although Maia insisted on washing himself. 

“I cannot stay,” Csevet said, when he had finished, brushing a stray curl off Maia’s forehead. “Not longer than could be plausibly explained by a meeting on some urgent business.”

Maia nodded and pulled him down to kiss one last time. “Sleep well.” He closed his eyes as Csevet rustled about retrieving his clothing and getting dressed. His body was heavy. 

The curtains on the bed swished and Maia heard Csevet bid Cala a good night, and the soft, unruffled response, “Goodnight Mer Aisava.” 

The door clicked and then Cala said, “Shall I put out the lamps, Serenity?” 

“Yes,” Maya murmured, letting the exhaustion of a long and complicated evening and the heavy lethargy after pleasure drag down into sleep. 

 

In the morning, washed and dressed by his edocharei, who seemed to find nothing amiss in his rumpled sheets or tangled hair, Maia went down to breakfast to find Csevet waiting for him as ever. He had a stack of letters, a list of obligations, and a very small private smile on his face, which Maia returned tentatively. 

As Maia took his seat at the table and Isheian served him his chamomile tea, the door opened again and his wife swept into the room, a vision in pale lavender and silver silk, impeccably dressed as always. 

“My love,” she greeted him, coming over to kiss his cheek. “Hadst a good night?” 

“Yes,” Maia said, blushing furiously. Her eyes sparkled at him and she looked up at Csevet who was standing nearby with his list, looking watchful, the way he observed a debate in the Corazhas of which the outcome was uncertain. “Mer Aisava,” Csethiro said, “you look well this morning. We trust you had a pleasant evening also.” 

Csevet’s ears lifted a little and the small secretive smile returned. “Yes, zhasan, very pleasant, we thank you.” 

Looking between the two of them, Maya felt something warm and bright pour into his chest like the morning sun. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!  
> Follow me on tumblr at [ stillwaterseas](http://stillwaterseas.tumblr.com/)


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